


Private Sunshine

by Marshmellow (orphan_account)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Character Deaths, F/M, Gen, M/M, expect some people you love to die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Marshmellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> <i>In December of 1944, in a foxhole in Bastogne, Booster fell in love. Oh no, he was almost certainly in love long before that. It was in that foxhole, freezing his ass off and aching for warmth, that he came to this conclusion.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Basic Training

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this...ages ago. Well, ages to me. Probably mid-summer?I just rediscovered it and decided to post chapter one. I have about three chapters written by now, but I don't want to devote time into it if no one is interested, so depending on feedback I may or may not continue.  **This is a World War II AU.**  If you're squeamish about war scenes, battles, etc., this might not be for you. 

It was June 1 st , Ted remembered clearly. June 1 st , 1942 and it was beautiful. The summer heat hadn’t quite reached its peak yet that day and the skies were clear and blue. Wind delightfully tickled his face as he lay on the community baseball field. It was one of the more beautiful days of the summer. Usually it was sticky and hot under the sun in Chicago, but not today. Ted was looking forward to a nice lazy summer.   


He could make his little gadgets and gizmos big time sellers. Or, so he dreamed. Usually Uncle Jarvis just waved away his fun little toys and robots that would spoon feed you, but Ted had plans for something bigger. Something that would really impress the company. He just didn’t know what it was yet.

Normally he’d be playing catch or messing around with his best buddy Michael, or Booster as the baseball guys nicknamed him, but he’d made some excuse about his sister and Ted hadn’t seen him in a few days. Michelle was probably rat him out for sticking glue in Ron’s cap the week before. Ron was always dramatic, telling everyone over exaggerated stories of what Ted and Booster did to him. He did have a way with words, though, and he was quite charming so many people tended to believe him. Ted and Booster got a laugh out of it.

Ted sighed and dozed, pulling his newsboy cap slightly over his face. He thought about designs for a machine that would control the weather so it would always be this nice. Not that it was possible, but it sure would be lovely. The idea was quickly chased away as he heard the grass rustle behind him. He fixed his cap and rolled over onto his stomach, looking happily up at his best pal who didn’t look in quite the same mood.

“Booster! What’re you lookin’ all down about?” Ted stood up, going to half embrace his friend. It was one-sided, as Booster hadn’t responded. This was rather unusual, as Booster was always the touchy one. Ted pulled back and grabbed his shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy, tell me what’s eatin’ you.” Ted led him over to one of the dugouts, sitting him down and keeping a steady arm around his shoulders. Booster sighed heavily, contemplating how he would answer.

There was a long moment in which Ted mentally went through all the most ridiculous scenarios. Was Michelle okay? Was his house burned down? Was Mr. Carter back? Did he get injured? Would he have to stop playing baseball? Would-

“I’m shipping out to Camp Justice next week. I volunteered to be a paratrooper.” 

The air seemed to still.

He’s going to war.

It took about four seconds for the sentence to fully sink in.

_He’s going to war?_

Well, and then it didn’t. It was like someone punched him in the stomach, but he pretended it didn’t hurt. His best pal wasn’t even drafted, he was leaving. Voluntarily. He felt like this was October, except worse. Because in October, there wasn’t a choice.

_“It says I have to go. I have to get checked out and then go straight to training.”_

_“Why? Why didn’t I get one too?”_

_“You’re not 21 yet. Draft only goes out to those who are 21 and up.”_

_“I’ll go with you.”_

_“No. You have to take care of your mom and Michelle.”_

_“Ted-“_

_“Booster. No.”_

_“I don’t want you to go. I won’t have best buddy if you go.”_

_“I know, but this is war. We can’t afford to be selfish like that. If I don’t go, we could lose the company. They’d get me in trouble, I don’t know! The government is crazy like that.”_

_“Please don’t leave me.”_

_“I’ll write, I promise.”_

That was in October. That was when Ted was had been drafted, who’d been stolen away. Instead, he’d been sent home less than a week later with a heart condition and a grin on his face.

Booster had just about cried his eyes out on Ted’s shoulder that day.

This wasn’t October. This wasn’t going to end in a heart condition and silly grins and bear hugs. Booster leaving because he wanted to. Because he wanted to be a hero. He wanted to leave Ted behind and run into battle head on.

This wasn’t October, this was June. This was June, when Booster was leaving him for blood and glory. 

“You can’t go, Booster! You got me and ‘Shell here. She needs you!” Ted gripped Booster’s shoulder tightly. He couldn’t let go, because if he let go Booster would walk away and he wouldn’t see him again until he came home in a casket. He couldn’t let go.

“That’s bullshit, Ted, and you know it. Michelle can fend fine for herself, she’s always been independent.”

“You have to stay here. You can’t leave me, we promised. When we were kids, remember? When we were just some sixteen year old kids with a dream to own a jazzy milkshake bar and name it Blue and Gold because I was a Beetles fan and you liked money, which is still true. Remember how stupid we were?” Ted begged. Booster smiled sadly. Of course he remembered. It was going to be a milkshake shop, a little place where all the kids could come and listen to music and socialize. The Blue And Gold Hop Stop; the only happy place left in Chicago, they’d said. “We can move to Canada, they’re not in any wars! We can open up The Blue And Gold Hop Stop there instead and be those cheesy bastards we always wanted to be! Rich, cheesy bastards!”

“I wish I could, Teddy, but you know I can’t. I have to fight, it’s…it’s what I gotta do. I’ve always needed to. God, I can’t just sit here and watch the world at war. I have to do something!” Booster looked at his hands, at the dirt, at anywhere that wasn’t Ted. At anywhere that wasn’t red eyes and tears and-

A teardrop fell on Booster’s trousers, but he didn’t notice.

“I leave next Monday.”

“I just wish we could go together.”

Booster slumped against the bench. But he popped right back up as though an idea struck him. “I know what I’ll do. I’m going to write you. Every single day. I promise. Cross my heart.”

“Every day?”

“Well, at least every week. As much as they allow me. I’ll write you all the time. I know you won’t get them right away, so don’t flip your wig, but just know they’re coming.”

Ted cried a little more, but Booster felt that much more confident about his decision. 

“Hey, come here, Teddy.” Booster pulled Ted into a tight embrace. “I love you, you know. I love you ‘cos you’re my best friend. All those other yucks got their honeys and their mamas, but I’ll always have you sittin’ in my mind when I’m fighting those damn Germans. I don’t need a Peggy or a Deb, not when I got my best pal Ted waitin’ for me to come home, showin’ off my purple hearts.”

“I love you, too. Even though you’re a greaseball.” Booster scoffed, causing Ted to chuckle. “I’ll write you back.”

“You better. What else would get me through my roughest days?”

“Bwaha, you flatter me.”

Booster stood up abruptly, taking Ted with him. He arranged his and Ted’s bodies into a standard dancing position and began to sway back and forth. Ted laughed. The sound rang in Booster’s ears. He didn’t want to leave that sound in Chicago. It didn’t seem fair.

“You and me, buddy. We won’t stay apart for long. We’re attached, you see. Right here.” Booster pointed to Ted’s chest.

“That’s the cheesiest piece of shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Michelle’s been readin’ me romances.” Booster smiled. 

“We’re not a romance.”

Booster laughed and swayed a little faster. He was scared, god knows he was scared. He couldn’t lose Ted again. He didn’t know how to. No matter how long they were separated, Booster knew it would be too long. But it wasn’t enough. Booster knew there was more than just him and Ted, and he had to do something about it. He had to be a hero, for his sister…for Ted. He leaned his head down closer to Ted’s shoulder.

“ _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey_.” Booster sang into Ted’s ear. Ted soon joined him.

“ _You’ll never know dear, how much I love you_.” A step back, step left, step forward. Ted stumbled a little, but Booster caught him, gently pressing him against his chest.

“ _Please just don’t take my sunshine away_.”

June 6 th , 1942

Booster Jon Carter had been missing from Ted Kord for five whole days and it felt more like five years. Each day he locked himself away in the small house he shared with his uncle, drawing up plan after plan for a new gizmo. New goggles for factory workers, handy gloves with welders in the fingers. None of them worked. Nothing worked. Ted felt like his brain wasn’t working anymore.

“Ugh!” Ted threw his pencil down and decided it was time to take a nice long walk.

By the time he reached the familiar area around Garrett Field, Ted was sweaty and cranky. He didn’t feel any better, he just felt homesick. And he wasn’t even the one who left. He felt like his home left him.

“Hey, Teddy!” He heard a familiar female voice call from nearby.

“Michelle.” He nodded. He usually got on with Booster’s twin sister, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Not right now. He needed to be angst-ridden and self-pitying for his own sake.

“What do you look so angry about?”

“Seriously?” Ted raised an eyebrow. He highly doubted Michelle was that oblivious.

“I know Boostery’s gone but it’s not like he’s dead! He’s off being a hero, Ted! Why can’t you be proud of him?”

“I am!” Ted didn’t sound completely truthful. Michelle gave him a doubtful look. “I’m very proud of him!”

“Really? What’s with the wallowing then? Walking around with your hands in your pockets and your chin on your chest?”

“We’re supposed to be a team. With Booster gone, it’s like…I don’t have to explain this to you!” Ted snarled. He was not in the mood. He would never be in the mood. He sat on the hill going down to the field, propping himself up by his elbows. 

“With Booster gone it’s like what?” Michelle took a seat beside him. A silence settled as Ted refused to answer. He didn’t want to talk about his feelings with Booster’s twin sister of all people.  “You know, you don’t have to sit here all useless. You can help. I’m doing my part.”

“Oh really? What are you doing?” Ted rolled his eyes. Michelle helping out didn’t sound like a good thing. She tried to take over the motherly role after her and Booster’s ma had died a several years back, but she just couldn’t. She was too young, she had too much to learn then. The two survived on their own, though. Booster got by on working at the local museum when he wasn’t at school and Michelle took over as the local nanny for hire. Ted offered to help with money, which hardly anyone had these days, but they both refused, too ashamed to admit to needing help. Michelle was great, but Ted didn’t think the army needed a nanny.

“Next week I’m starting my nurse training.” She said. “I’m going out there, and since they won’t let me fight, damned well I’m going to help those who are.”

Ted suddenly felt his stomach drop. “You’re leaving too?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Ted.” Michelle smiled. “I’m just following my brother into battle my own way.”

“But if you leave…”

“If I leave, what? There won’t be a reminder of Booster hanging around these parts? There’s a war going on, Ted. Wake up. There’s more than just you and Booster. Sorry to say, but your fun days of frolic and fun are over for now.” She snapped. “I can get serious real fast, buddy.”

The word sounded foreign on her tongue. Nobody called Ted buddy, nobody but Booster. And Booster made it sound…warm. Like home. Michelle made it sound like a threat.

“I don’t need this.”

“Do you want me to tell you the honest to god truth?” Michelle grabbed his arm before he could stand.

“Please. I’d love to hear it.” Ted said flatly.

“Boostery might die.” Michelle said matter-of-factly. “Booster might not come home. He might get shot down, bombed, his squadron might get ambushed. He might not make it.”

Ted knew this, oh boy did Ted know. The past five days he had gone over in his head how many different scenarios could happen in which Booster would not make it out alive. He imagined the bloodiest scenes, where Booster couldn’t even have an open casket funeral. He imagined Booster screaming in pain, yelling for help, dying alone. He imagined it all.

Having it said aloud reminded him of how real it could become.

He wasn’t going to cry in front of Michelle, he told himself. But he refused to look at her. “Why do ya gotta remind me, ‘Shell?” 

“Why? Because this is the first time you’ve been outside since he left and you’re acting more like a troubled army wife. You better snap out of it because there’s a bigger picture than this little section of Chicago you and Booster have been hiding behind all these years.” Michelle said. “You guys love each other, probably more than any men I know. But that’s not going to win a war. I know you could’ve fibbed that heart condition away if you really wanted to, you can’t trick me. The only reason you didn’t was because of what was waiting back home. Now that he’s out there, you don’t have a reason to stay.” 

With that, she stood and walked away. 

Ted sat, and Ted thought. Hard. He tried to forget that the world was changing fast, that life he was twenty-one years old and not a kid anymore. He couldn’t hide behind newsboy caps or his jock best friend. He had to face the facts that said best friend was doing what he did best; kicking down bullies.

He remembered back to September of 1934, passing by a blond boy and girl who looked his age. He remembers stopping to ask if they were alright, if they needed help. They shook their heads, but Ted refused to leave them alone on a curb. He sat himself down and began rambling to fill the air.

“It’s getting worse and worse, it seems.” He’d said. He was just fourteen and so naïve. The meaning of money wasn’t clear, since his family wasn’t affected as harshly during the Depression. He was just a lonely kid looking for friends. “It’ll get better, it always does.”

The girl had sighed, clearly annoyed, but Ted had paid her no attention. 

“My name’s Ted. Ted Kord.” He stretched a hand out to the boy. They shook hands, and at the time it didn’t feel like anything but a friendly handshake. But it turned into more than that. 

“Michael Carter. This is my sister Michelle. We just moved here from Gotham.” He seemed friendlier than his sister, Ted concluded. Later he’d find out this wasn’t due to unfriendliness, just a different way of coping with the fact that their father left not too long before, forcing them to come to Chicago. At the time they didn’t know it, but their mother was actually running from debt that the Kord family paid off quickly and easily before it got too big a deal.

Introductions led to dinner on Ted, which led to discovering a mutual love for crude humor and messing with their fellow classmates. They were soon replacing Guy Gardner’s hair gel with chicken fat and just like that they were best friends. Michelle let them be boys while she stayed closer to her group of girl friends instead. It worked out as well as it could during the time. 

_“You know what we should do?”_

_“What?”_

_“We should open our own milkshake shop. There’s not enough of those around here. We could have so much fun, ya’know. You and me makin’ milkshakes, I’ll even make a machine that does the hard work for us. We just gotta take care of the money.”_

_“A milkshake shop? What are we, twelve?”_

_“I like milkshakes, you like money. I don’t understand how it couldn’t work out.”_

_“Doesn’t sound bad when you put it that way. If you’re not famous for making some world changing flying contraption by the time we’re thirty.”_

_“Bwahaha, good one.”_

_“What would even call it, Booster and Ted’s? That sounds like two fat-heads running a stinky old bar.”_

_“What do we both love?”_

_“As previously stated, I love money. And you’re carrying a torch for Dan Garrett-“_

_“Completely untrue I’m just a fan of-“_

_“No, you practically worship him. And it’s weird. So what? The Beetle Dollar?”_

_“I do not worship him! I just really like the way he runs his team, okay? What about Gold? Golden Beetle?”_

_“Do you even think when you talk? Would you to hang at somewhere called the Golden Beetle?”_

_“Oh and The Beetle Dollar is so much more delightful.”_

_“Beetles, their colors are blue right?”_

_“Good job, Sherlock.”_

_”Hear me out! Your favorite team’s colors are blue, gold is gold. Blue and Gold. We can call it the Blue And Gold Hop Stop.”_

_“That’s not awful. Cheesy, but we can make that our theme.”_

_“We just need a tagline.”_

_“I already got this. The Blue And Gold Hop Stop: the only happy place left in Chicago!”_

_“We’re going to have a long happy life together, Theodore.”_

_“With our pockets full of dough!”_

It seemed like forever ago. It seemed like a different time. There wasn’t a war, there was just him and Booster and some stupid dream because they were sixteen and could afford it. 

Ted stood up, dusted himself off, and decided it was time to get over himself. This was wartime, and he was going to face it head on.

June 14, 1942. 

_Dearest Theodore,_

_Bwaha, got you! The army didn’t turn me all fancy shmancy, don’t you flip your wig. I’m not gonna bother dating these babies since I’m not exactly sure when you’ll get them anyway. Just know you’re getting them as fast as I can send them._

_I guess I should fill you in on what’s happening around these parts. I know you didn’t want me to leave, but you’ll be proud. I’m risking my life just that much more all for your sorry ass. And it’s not easy. Paratrooping is hard. Plus, my company has been basically drilled into the ground and it’s only been a few days. Good thing I’m in such good shape._

_Basically, the leaders of our company (and it’s called Jig Company, isn’t that a laugh?) are these two crazy guys you’d probably clash hard with. Captains Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent. They’ve known each other for years and they’re always being really secretive and sketchy. They have a serious case of the superiority complex._

_Remember Guy Gardner from the “olden days” before he moved? It must be too small a world because he’s in Jig Company too. You should’ve seen his face when he saw me! Just about jumped out of his skin. I never knew that someone could say “Booster” with such passionate hatred.  He’s still an egg, as usual, but what else is new?_

_It’s been really tough, since Captain Ass and Hole expect us all to be able to do everything they can, even though we don’t know how. I’m one of the luckier ones since I played baseball for so long. It’s highly gratifying to outrun Guy Gardner, I’ll tell you that much._

_I’ve become sort of friends with a Ralph Dibny. Poor guy had to leave his wife behind, said it was one of the worst things he’d had to do. All the guys have been talking about their broads back home. Guy has some beauty named Tora, Ralph has his Sue, and even this dork named Scott has his girl Barda. They asked me if I had a dame back home but I just said “No, just my buddy Ted.” They looked at me funny, but I don’t really care. Captain Wayne doesn’t have a girl I know of, why don’t they hackle him? I’m probably just an easy target._

_I wish you were here, I always wish you were here. It’s not fair, listening to everyone ramble on about their family and when I mention you it’s like a taboo. I don’t understand. I think they might think we’re in cahoots if you know what I mean. They’re just being fuddy-duddies, is what I think._

_What’s not fair is that our platoon leader is Major Lord. Bad enough having two uptight nubs leading the whole company, now we got Lord who clearly wasn’t raised to enjoy himself. Let me tell you, he always knows when we’re up to something. It’s a little annoying. I can’t get away with any fun._

_Come on out and give me company, buddy. I’m all lonely out here without my best man._

_With as much love as I can send through paper,_

_Michael “Booster” Carter_

  
The letter was long enough and quality enough. In fact, it was more than Ted could imagine for a first letter. But it was all he needed to break down on his bed. 

Booster was making pals, making friends and defending the country. What was Ted doing? Absolutely nothing. Heart condition his ass.

It took him a week to begin his reply. He was busy preparing himself. He’d gone to the nearest recruitment center and insisted he be sent out. 

“Heart condition, can’t be sent out. Next!” A burly man had grumbled. Ted wasn’t going to take it, he had to go to war.

“I actually have a note from my-“

“I don’t take notes. This ain’t primary school. Next!”

Ted refused to move. “I have. A. Note.”

Ted will tell the story like this. He slams the note down, demands to be shipped off to Camp Justice just north of Benton, Alabama. The man, realizing Ted’s might authority, stamps his file and sends him off on the next train to Camp Justice. 

That doesn’t actually happen. The two have a stare down for a few long moments. The other to-be-soldiers get impatient and start yelling. Ted nervously slides a note on the table and asks if he could please be sent to Camp Justice, J Company. The man looks over the note, says he’s sorry for the misunderstanding and said the next shipment to Camp Justice would be the following week. Ted didn’t realize that the note Uncle Jarvis wrote him was threatening, strong-worded, and very convincing.

_My Dear Boosty,_

_I’m “bwahaha-ing” at you because you’re stuck with Guy Gardner of all people. Your Captains sound like assholes, I’m almost glad I’m not there. Is that the same Bruce Wayne with about a dozen adopted kids and a legacy the size of a small country? Eesh. I’m guessing you’ll be running into a lot of his relatives._

_I feel like if I was at your camp, they’d hate me. You know I’m not Chicago’s Fittest, so they’d probably strangle me within a day._

_Don’t listen to those yucks, though. They’re lucky to have their gals; they don’t have to worry about us. We got each other, we don’t need dames!_

_It’s been very tough around here without you. I don’t know if Michelle wrote you or not, but she left this week for nurse training. She said she’s following you into battle her own way, whatever that means. With no Carters in Chicago, I didn’t exactly want to stay. All our old pals have been drafted, it feels weird._

_I think we were the only light in Chicago. Now that you’re gone everything and everyone seemed just that much more depressing._

_Oh, actually, semi-important information. This time next week, my train leaves for Alabama._

_I’m going to be on my way to Camp Justice. That’s right, buddy. We’re gonna be soldier buddies. Fighting Germans side by side!_

_Yeah, yeah, I know I have a heart condition. Turns out it’s easier to lie about than you’d think. A quick note from my uncle, and I was in. I think he has a lot of sway in the community. Back in October I guess I was too eager to get back home to you to even attempt to cover it up. You’re not fighting for me anymore. Although, you could be, I just won’t be waiting at home for you anymore. We’re fighting for each other!_

_See ya soon, pal!_

_Love you more than a scrap of paper could ever express,  
Your best friend Ted Kord_

Booster read the letter five times before he realized exactly what it said. Ted was…going to war? Ted was going to war! That meant Ted wasn’t at home, that meant Booster didn’t have anyone back home anymore. Ted was coming  _here_!

He’d gotten news about his sister not too long ago, before she had the chance to tell him herself. Guy heard through Tora, who had been off to nurse training as well. They’d run into each other at the train station and chatted for a little while. It seems like sometimes Grumpy Guy can be helpful and nice. On occasion. 

He wanted to reply. He wanted to start writing right now. But, training camps don’t have time for personal affairs. 

“CARTER! CURRY! PALMER! Get your asses outside and join your platoon! Five miles, no water!” Captain Kent boomed. “I don’t have time for tardiness! If you’re caught drinking from your canteen your whole platoon’s weekend passes are revoked and you will  _all_ have to rerun the course!” 

This meant he had to run a little harder to catch up with everyone else. He didn’t have as much trouble as Private Palmer, who wasn’t really made out for this sort of physical stress. Private Curry ran at his own pace, catching up in due time.

Nothing was worse than running for Kent and Wayne. They were forced to run five miles in the morning, five in the afternoon, and five at night in addition to the extra training their company got. And the Captains didn’t let them forget. 

Heavy steps pounded against the dirt as they fought to keep running. Wayne claimed he would force them to wear more and more equipment each month, but for now it was the standard shirt, shorts, and boots of the basic training uniform. The men were grateful, even though they still didn’t get water.

“My god, Jordan! Pick it up!”

“Bite my ass, Cap!” 

The platoon snickered. Hal Jordan didn’t know when to shut his trap, but sometimes it was amusing enough. Generally he was just a dick.

“I’ll shoot it right off if you don’t shut up!” Captain Wayne growled. Booster couldn’t help but chuckle. “Something funny, Private Carter?” 

“No, sir!” 

“That’s what I thought! Faster, J Company! This is not the little leagues!”

No water, no rest, just running. Booster didn’t mind it as much as the others did, mainly Guy. He wasn’t in the best of shape, but he kept up well enough. 

“Faster! If you are not fast, if you are not fit you will die!” Captain Kent boomed. 

Booster, getting quite sick of only hearing the Captains yelling and berating them, decided to take another approach. 

“ _Gory, gory what a helluva way to day_.” He began to sing. Midway into the second line, Private Raymond from the platoon behind joined in. “ _Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die. Gory, gory what a helluva way to die. He ain’t gonna jump no more._ ”

“What in God’s name is-“ Wayne was interrupted abruptly by Scott Free joining in.

“ _He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright_ ,” They sang. Curry and Hall shortly joined on in. Guy looked pissed, but that wasn’t anything new. He joined in as well, though with reluctance. “ _He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight_.”

“Stop!”

They didn’t. Soon it caught on through all the platoons in the company. Jig Company ran and sang and thoroughly pissed off Kent and Wayne. 

“ _He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar!_ ” The entire company was singing by now and Kent and Wayne had no control over the matter. Booster could’ve sworn he saw Captain Kent join in at one point, but he couldn’t be sure. 

  
“ _’You ain’t gonna jump no more!’_ ”   



	2. D-Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Booster looked around at the men he’d been training with for the past two years. He wondered if he’d see them again."
> 
> It's the Day of Days, and J Company goes in fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know basics of the military, specifically WWII (this story is heavily inspired by Band Of Brothers), but I do not claim to be an expert. I apologise if anything is wrong.

July 28th, 1941.

“Hey, Booster, you wanna meet the new recruits we got comin’ in? Get your ass out to attendance fifteen minutes early.” Dibny asked, waking Booster and most of the men in the barracks which got him a round of ‘fuck you’s. 

“Fifteen minutes from my breakfast? Is it worth it?” It wasn’t even time for breakfast yet. It was only 0530 hours. He had thirty minutes to sleep, or he did until Dibny near jumped on him. 

He contemplated his choices. Attendance was at 0700 hours, but Booster figured he could miss out on a few minutes of breakfast if it meant getting an eye of the new kids.

He tried to calm himself down, tell himself it was too soon for Ted to be joining him. He hated disappointing himself.

“And miss out on the new kids shakin’ in their standard-issue boots?”

Booster always did love watching the newbies get intimidated by Kent and Wayne. Mostly Wayne. Kent had a soft side to him that was almost too obvious. Booster felt like Wayne would actually hurt someone if they did something against his will.

He tore himself away from his letter, shoving it under his bed to reread another time. 

“Show me the way, Ralphie.” 

Breakfast was something unidentifiable, but edible. Booster downed it with ease, having had a light dinner the night before so he could rush back to barracks and read Ted’s latest. He reached over to steal something from Guy’s plate, but his hand was smacked away roughly. 

“Get up and get your own, fuckass.” 

“Why when yours is right there, Gardner? You make it too easy.”

“I swear-“

“NEW RECRUITS!” A yell came from across the hall. 

“They’re early!” Dibny grinned cheekily. “Let’s go, Booster!” He roughly grabbed Booster by the collar and hauled him outside. A small crowd formed to watch the new recruitment line up for evaluation from the Captains of each company. 

“Woooheee!” Guy catcalled. “We got ourselves some pretty boys this round!” 

Hal snickered.  “You’re gonna have to get a little dirty!”

Various lewd comments were yelled out amongst the crowd. Booster tried to get a better view, just in case his buddy was in there. 

“-with Jig Company, first platoon, we have Private Allen, Private Drake, Private Harper, Private Kent, and Private Scott.” As they passed each new member, Captain Wayne eyed them critically. Allen looked just about ready to piss his pants, but with excitement.

“I’m honored to be in Jig Company, sir!” He exclaimed. 

“You did not ask permission to speak!”

“Sorry, sir!” 

“You will do a Captain’s run tonight, all of you!”

“Permission to speak, sir.” Private Harper asked, seemingly miffed.

“Permission granted.”

“What is a Captain’s run, sir?”

The crowd laughed. “It’s what I did to your ma last night!” Someone called from Able Company. Harper visibly tensed. 

“Whatever I choose to have you run!” Wayne bellowed. “I will lead you up a hill on the other side of camp; you can find your own way back. If not, well, natural selection.”

The crowd whooped. 

“Move on. With Jig Company, second platoon, we have Private Freeman, Private Kord, Private Ranzz and Private Rayner.” 

Did he say…?

“Did he say Private Kord?” Booster nearly laughed.

“Perk up your ears, pretty boy.” Guy sneered. “Looks like our platoon just gained some new meat.”

Booster stretched his neck to see the new line of men. He spotted the head of red-brown hair standing in between two black haired kids, one fairly well built and the other rather lean. Neither of those guys mattered, all though Guy seemed to perk up at the sound of Rayner. 

“Do any of you have anything to say like the last group?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Move along to the mess hall so we can get finished with the rest of ya before morning attendance.” 

Booster didn’t even want to stay to hear the rest. He followed where the rest of the newbies had gone. He snuck up behind Ted who was currently stuck listening to a fishing story courtesy of Arthur Curry.

“Well if it isn’t Theodore Kord of the Chicago Kords.” Booster said into Ted’s ear, donning a horrible British accent. “My, he hasn’t been around these parts in many a fortnight!” 

“Is that Michael Jon Carter behind me?” Ted mimicked the awful accent, not turning around quite yet. 

“Turn on your ugly little stompers and find out yourself.” 

With a quick turn, Booster was suddenly face to face with Ted. He felt a rush of relief and happiness wave over him. It was almost surreal, seeing him after only talking to him through paper for the last month. They looked at each other for a long moment, Curry eyeing them before sensing he was a third wheel and walking off. 

He surged forward and caught him in a tight hug.

“Ted, buddy! I’ve missed you so!” Booster overdramatized. A few of the guys from his platoon catcalled.

“How did you get yourself into my Company? No way that was an accident.”

“I may have told Grayson to slip a hint at his buddy Wayne-“

They were interrupted by a catcall from Hal Jordan.

“So that’s your dame! I didn’t know they were lettin’ queers in nowadays!” Jordan scoffed.

“He’s my best pal, you ass.” Booster snapped, letting Ted go. 

“Yeah right, best pal. I remember when I wanted to fuck my best pal.” Jordan said. “Wait, I don’t cos I’m not a queer!”

Before Booster could react, he heard the Captains calling for everyone to line up in their platoons.

“Hey, we’ll catch up later, okay Ted?” Ted nodded and went off to go join his platoon. Booster passed by Jordan along the way.

“You say one more word against me or Ted, I’ll shove your head so far up your ass you’ll be washing shit out of your mouth for a month.” He warned. “You think I’m kidding?”

“You’re not tough, Boosty Boy. Threats don’t scare me.” Jordan glared back.

“I got friends in high places, Jordan.” It wasn’t exactly true, but it sure sounded good.

“ATTENTION!” Kent called, and Jordan backed away getting in line like the rest of the platoon. Booster made a childish face at him, but he didn’t see. 

Nobody messed with him and Ted. 

Training carried on as usual, Jig Company receiving the toughest training besides Easy. Sometimes, when Jig was running through the rain and cold, Booster caught sight of Ted ahead of him and it made him smile. Made him remember that there was something worth fighting for, that there was a reason he was out here busting his ass. 

November sent a chill through Georgia, but Wayne and Kent didn’t seem to notice or care. 

The months passed slowly, a new year came with minimal celebration, and training got harder. They were taught different tactics, different strategies, and they had practice scenarios to prepare for real life situations. 

February brought snow, which meant more vigorous outdoor training because Wayne and Kent wanted to prepare them for everything. (Years later after Bastogne they would look back gratefully, but not now when they were freezing their asses off for the enjoyment of their Captains.

Spring passed too fast and it was soon summer again, meaning sticky heat and too many bug bites. It meant begging for water, but it was limited in this kind of heat so they only got so much. It meant more gear as they battled through another Captain’s run. 

“Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die…”

One more year until they shipped out. 

Preparing for paratrooping was more difficult than Ted thought. As they took their practice runs, he wondered if he would be one of the many who would be shot midair. He wondered if he was in the platoon who’s plane would get shot down, or if his parachute would be faulty. He wondered if Booster was thinking the same things. 

One more year. What if this was his last?

June 6th, 1944.

“It has been my honor training you men.” Lord bellowed at his platoon. “You’ve not only worked hard to earn my respect, but the respect of all your brothers here today. When we ship out today, I know that not only our platoon, but all the platoons of this Company will serve their country well, no matter what events may transpire.” 

He nodded. “Let’s move out, boys.”

And with that, he held out a hand and helped each of his men into the plane, one at a time. 

Curry, who had been vigilant with his training and did not stop just because he was worn and weary. Even when Kent and Wayne yelled into his ear that he wasn’t doing enough, that he wasn’t working hard, that he was a disgrace, Arthur battled on. 

Gardner, who had grumbled his way through training but had the heart of a fighter. He wouldn’t get beat down, not by anyone. He’d been battered and worn, but he still yelled at himself to go harder. Lord clapped him on the back proudly. 

Palmer, who got over his mental weakness after the winter days and surprised everyone by coming through. When everyone thought he would be gone by Christmas, he refused and kept himself going.

Hall, who was a natural leader among the platoon. He’d encouraged his fellow men to battle through the tough situations they were placed in and get over the mountains their Captains created. 

Jordan, who was kind of an asshole.

Dibny, who nobody took seriously at first. He was one of the rookies the higher ranked men placed bets on to leave first. But he didn’t. He stayed and made himself a name in the Company, another fighter. 

Kord, who had a heart of gold and a drive to succeed. He didn’t seem to have the best techniques of the platoon, but he was a damn good fighter anyhow. He’d put himself before any of the men in his Company.

He came to Carter and nodded. “Booster.” He clapped his hand on his back. All the men in the battalion had seemingly forgotten that he had another name besides Booster. Carter had started off somewhat distant, but one of the best men in the Company. All these were the finest of men, but Carter was a leader just like Hall. He had determination, drive. 

All these men had a fire in their bellies that grew over their years at Justice. These boys weren’t boys anymore. They were soldiers. 

And as their plane took off towards battle, towards gunfire and explosions and war, Major John Lord could honestly say he wouldn’t want to fight with any other men.

The flight to enemy grounds felt like years to Booster. All he could think about was Ted and Michelle. He kept glancing over to his friend, receiving a wary grin. He grinned back, every time, and he would stare at his lap wondering if this would be the last time he saw Ted.

 War didn’t have room for love. Not this side of it. 

There were yells, he knew that much. In front of him, Dibny looked like he was going to puke at any given moment. Everything was shaking, everything was dark, everything was loud. 

“GET READY TO JUMP!” Major Lord yelled. Booster looked around at the men he’d been training with for the past two years. He wondered if he’d see them again.

“GO!” Jordan was gone.

“GO!” Then it was Hall. Kord. He winced as his best friend flew into battle.

Dibny, Gardner. 

Carter.

And he was falling, his parachute slowing him almost painfully. There was gunfire. There were men falling down, down, down. Bullets whizzed past, almost tauntingly. Raymond from third platoon had a shot parachute and he was falling faster than the rest. And he was screaming.

There was so much screaming.

Was Ted screaming?

Booster closed his eyes for just a second, and soon he realized he was closing in on the ground. He braced himself and toppled over, quickly unhooking his parachute and looking for fellas from his platoon. For Ted. 

There was more distant yells, and Booster was beginning to wonder if he even had the right landing area when he ran into Guy Gardner.

 “Thank god, let’s try and find Lord.” Guy said, pushing at Booster’s shoulder. 

“Have you seen Ted?”

“Nah, but I’m not so much worried about other people right now. We gotta keep walking.”

Booster bristled at that. “What-“

“Not right now, we have to find Lord, or at least our rendezvous point. We can focus on him later, okay?”

They walked into the quiet of the forest, sounds of gunfire getting quieter. 

“Raymond’s gone, I saw.” Booster said. “His parachute got shot right through he went down right in front of my eyes.” 

“Well, get used to it. This ain’t a tea party, this is war. How many times do they gotta drill that into your thick skull, brick brain?” Booster scowled, but he was relieved Guy was still Guy. For now. “We gotta get ourselves to Lord, or at least some other guys who know where we are. Maybe Wayne and Kent are around here somewhere.”

“Be careful, let’s try not to get shot.”

“Good advice, golden boy.” 

They continued walking, a steady silence between them. Rustles of the leaves filled the air, and suddenly they heard a click click click.

“Those gotta be our guys.” Guy said.

“Lord? Wayne?” Booster whispered loudly as they crossed to the bush where the clicking was. 

“Booster! Get yer ass over here!” Dibny’s voice came. Booster was relieved as hell to know that Ralph was still around. 

“Ralphie!” Booster said. “Good to see you’re all in one piece.” 

He looked around to see who else was in the group. Lord, much to Booster’s relief, was crouched between Curry and Allen. 

“Barty, bud, you’re lookin’ good. Where’s your platoon?”

“Thanks, I’m just glad I made it all in one piece! And I don’t know I’m looking for our platoon leader, Queen, but-“

“Shh.” Curry said looking over the bush. “Get down.” 

Booster and Guy ducked behind the bush and waited. After a few moments, they heard footsteps getting closer and Arthur popped up a little bit. 

“Hey, Rayner, where’s your platoon?” He asked, much to Booster’s surprise. He’d sworn they were about to get ambushed or taken as POWs.

“You tell me.” Booster was glad to see Rayner, and clearly so was Guy. He jumped up and punched Rayner playfully, saying he was glad that son of a bitch made it through.

“We should be heading north.” Lord said. “We’re also looking for the rest of our platoon. We should stick together until we get to the rendezvous point.”

“Major, you know how long we’ve got until we get there?” 

“Four miles.” 

The men were silent. Four miles to go, and they were still alive.  They carried on walking. 

“Hey, you by any chance see Ted?” Booster asked, glancing at Rayner. “I’m wondering if maybe he just landed in the wrong zone or somethin’.”

“No, sorry to say.”

Booster fell silent. That wasn’t helpful. Ted could’ve been shot down, taken as a prisoner, anything. But they marched on and on. With each step, Booster got more worried, but tried to swallow it down.

“Hey, don’t worry ‘bout it. We’ll catch back up with your pal.” Allen said. Booster almost wanted to hit him, because how was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to be so sure he hadn’t been ambushed or gunned or stabbed in the back? But he held back, because Bart was just a kid, he didn’t look any older than 16. He most likely lied to get his way in, Booster wasn’t sure how. 

“How old are you, kid?” He asked.

There was a pause as he looked nervously at Lord. “Twenty.”

“Right.” The kid was eighteen. Too young and Booster figured the army was too desperate if they were playing ignorant over a kid like him. 

Left, right, left, right. Walking seemed so simple, yet so unfamiliar. Something that he wasn’t expecting. He was expecting to be running for his life. 

And then a gunshot rang out. Allen fell. 

There was a flurry of events. Screaming, so much screaming it was so loud, and gunfire rang through the forest. German shouting, Lord barking orders. Allen was on the ground, bleeding from his neck. He was choking on his own blood, unable to make a sound other than a rough gurgle. 

“RAYNER! Pull Allen behind that bush for protection! FALL BACK!” 

Booster remembers shooting blindly at first. The gun was heavy in his hands, and he felt as though he was moving through molasses. And then he shot, hit his target. A German went down, holding his stomach. 

“Ah! Ich bin getroffen! Mediziner! Mediziner!” 

“KEEP MOVING!”

“Ich bin-“

“BOOSTER!” 

He looked back at the man, screaming for help. A bullet whizzed just the right of his head, and he ran. 

“Mediziner!”

“WE NEED TO KEEP MOVING!”

He ran, and ran, and ran. He left behind the man, not knowing if he just made his first kill, but he couldn’t care about that. 

He kept running until they were in a clearing and it was then Booster noticed they were missing Rayner and Allen.

Allen who was bleeding and-

“Where the fuck is Kyle?” Guy asked Lord. 

“He was with Allen.”

“What does that fucking mean?” He shoved at Lord. “Where is he?”

“We need to get to rendezvous-“ Curry tried to talk over them. It didn’t work. 

“Where’s Kyle and Bart?”

“We can’t worry about that right now!”

“They’re our men!” 

“We have to find the-“

“HEY!” Booster yelled, gaining the attention of their small group. “Yes, we need to find the rendezvous point, yes we should worry about Kyle and Bart. But first why don’t we find out where the fuck we are so we can know where we have to go?”

Silence fell over the group. “Fine. Anyone have a map?”

“Lord does, he was using it before.” Dibny spoke up, shakily. A boom sounded from just two miles west and they all jumped.

“Can you please find out where we are and what we have to do to get out of here? We all have people we’re worried about but if we can get to where we need to be maybe some of that can be sorted out.” Booster said evenly. 

Lord felt a swell of pride for the man he had trained the past two years. Booster had always been the most emotional of the platoon members, but if he really needed to be he could set himself straight and get the rest of the men together. 

“We need to head north east of here, we have about two miles left. If we get ambushed again, well. Let’s not get ambushed again.” Lord said. 

Booster nodded. “Alright, well. Let’s head out. I got a buddy to find.”

“Hey, what about Rayner and Allen? We can’t just leave them out there!” 

There was a stomp of feet, quick but heavy as though he knew he had to get here fast but didn’t want to. The men kept hands on their weapons, ready to fire at any moment if necessary. 

“He’s dead.” It was Kyle Rayner. His hands were bloody, just as his sleeves and chest. He was breathing hard after running as fast as he could, following where they had gone. Sweat dripped from his chin, leaving trails on the mud caked to his face. “I tried to keep him with me, talking, you know…I couldn’t. I told him we could get him to a medic, stitch him right back up. I-...” 

“Hey, not your fault. You’re not the German bastard who fired the gun.” Dibny said. “Let’s keep moving.”

Guy was relieved as hell that Rayner was alive and it showed. He didn’t say a word, just nodded at Kyle and kept walking. That was all he really needed, though.

Booster thought to himself as they walked. Bart Allen wasn’t twenty, that much he knew. Bart was a kid, he should’ve have died. Not now, not this early. He was a kid, and he had a ma back home that was worried about him. He was a kid and he shouldn’t have died, but he did and it hit him again how close death was for each of them. 

That could’ve easily been Guy. It could’ve easily been Lord, or Curry. 

It could’ve been anyone. But it wasn’t anyone it was Allen and somehow it felt unfair. And then Booster thought about the man he’d shot. How many people were waiting at home for him? His ma? Dad? Did he have a dame? 

Booster shut these thoughts off right away. You weren’t supposed to think about it like that, they were taught. They aren’t people you’re shooting. They’re not sons, they’re not brothers, they’re not kids. They’re the enemy, and that was that. 

But Bart was. He was a son and a kid and now he was dead. He wouldn’t be sent home, would he? Kyle had to leave him behind.

The rest of the walk was silent except for the distant sounds of gunfire, like another child being pulled away from their mother.

Booster shook his head and walked on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter I have written, so I don't really expect to put up a new one until I have proper time to write it all out, but I hope you enjoyed!


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